


Molluscs in moll and dur

by Nenchen



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley is a demon who can stand up for himself dont worry, Humor, M/M, Minor and only words, Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), cold open, crowley had a bad day, the infamous oyster scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23262133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenchen/pseuds/Nenchen
Summary: Crowley had a bad day and just wants out. But he also cannot resist anything the angel suggests. Even if it iis eating slimy creatures with a very hard shell...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 79





	Molluscs in moll and dur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kedreeva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/gifts).



> This is written for a prompt by [Kedreeva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/pseuds/Kedreeva), which I will not tell you because spoilers.  
> Also very grateful for editing by [ginger_mosaic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginger_mosaic/pseuds/ginger_mosaic).  
> Yes I wrote another oyster scene fic. Enjoy :D

Rome.

What a _nightmare_.

He had arrived only a day ago and he’d already had it with this place. It could go to literal Hell for all he cared. Would, too, considering the people he’d met here so far.

To think that he had actually been excited about this place when they had asked ~~commanded~~ him to go here and tempt their emperor.

He had always done his best work in big cities. Lots of finely tuned inner workings to uncover and offset and then watch tumble around him.

So he’d gone there, miracled himself up a snazzy big city outfit to fit in just enough and gone about doing his work. Gotten close to Caligula.

And then all his plans and information gathering and everything had been for nothing. Because the man was doing Crowley’s job just fine for himself. Even more than that. Bonus effort. Grade A and stickers.

Disappointing.

He had reasoned with himself that he’d do some minor schemes in the rest of the city, wiling a bit so the travel wouldn’t have been for nothing. A whole city was always a nice back up to have for his hellish quota. He was close to a good mood as he went out again.

And then one of the useless pricks Caligula surrounded himself with had propositioned him. Told him his outfit made him look like a prostitute.

He had picked these things because he _liked_ them, not to send some kind of obscure signal for something like that to a human of all things. After he’d made that very clear, he spitefully ramped it up a bit more. Those humans would see what good it did them to assume things like that.[1] No, he was THROUGH with Rome. Gone as quickly as possible, which was right this moment.

Well, after he tried some of the local booze. These traditional things always vanished so quickly, it would be a shame not to.

This is how, two hours later, he found himself a bit tipsy and seated across the table from an angel—an actual angel, the only angel he’d ever share a table with (or share anything with, really)—with a small mountain of crusty molluscs that looked like rocks between them. They smelled weird, and the slurping noises all around were making his skin crawl.

Really, he did not want to be here right now, but…

“Oh, let me tempt you!”

The angel was always tempting to him, that was the thing. He was just so different. Good company, unexpected and amusing and a good conversationalist. Always nice and smiley in a way that made Crowley’s intestines do funny things this very moment. Nah, it probably was just this oyster stuff. But he had kept on wheedling Crowley into it, even though he had snapped at him with that stupid aardvark joke.[2]

Right now, he was watching Crowley attentively with that irritating, never-wavering smile. Just delighted to share this experience with him. It made his skin itch in a weird way.

He really should mess with him a bit. But how to?

Crowley glanced around at the other tables. People opening the shells with their knives. Spritzing a bit of fruit stuff on there. Slurping down the insides with that gross noise. And suddenly he had the perfect idea.

He fixed his eyes on the angel’s face and took an oyster into his hand. The angel’s smile got even wider, encouraging, and he leaned forward just slightly as if he didn’t want to miss a moment of this.

Great. Crowley really didn’t want him to.

With glee, he watched as the angel’s face fell and made way for a horrified, almost outraged expression as Crowley brought the shell to his face and bit down. Right through it, like a horrible sugar cookie.

The loud, painful crunching noise made the whole restaurant stop in its tracks to look at him. The waves of horror and other mixed negative emotions coming at him were delightful. Who knew you could upset people so much with such a tiny action?[4]

He bit down again.

Crunch. The juices and innards gave way to the pressure and gushed into his mouth.

Huh. This was actually pretty tasty. And a really nice texture for a being like him with a snake as his roots.

Even better though was the expression of the angel. It was all there.

Horror. Disbelief. Second hand social embarrassment. Wonderful.

Crowley polished off his first oyster as loudly as he could, with gusto.

“You know, the crunch really compliments the mushy texture and flavor greatly. Delicious. I could eat all of these!”

When he reached for the second, the angel’s hand shot out to stop him by grabbing his wrist.

The smile on his face was pained.

“My dear fellow. This… is not how you eat oysters.”

Crowley put on his most obvious fake surprised face.

“It’s not? Why I NEVER would have guessed. It worked so well.”

One of the angel’s brows twitched. Perfect, he was annoyed now.

But then, his face changed to something more mischievous.

“Well then. Let me demonstrate!”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to watch as the angel gingerly took one of the oysters, opened it, dribbled the juice on it and brought it to his plush lips. Dipped the shell. Swallowed.

And then closed his eyes as he let out a loud, guttural moan of pure ecstasy.

Again, the whole restaurant was looking at them, and it was now Crowley’s turn to feel the embarrassment creeping up his neck.

The angel opened his eyes again, and, with a smug smile, _winked at him_. The _bastard!!!_

Crowley couldn’t be bested by this.

Determined, he grabbed a second oyster, eyes fixed on the angel who was doing the same. It was ON.

An hour later they were sitting at another bar, drunk almost out of their minds and laughing uproariously.

“You should have seen the lady behind you. So offended she tried to faint, but her husband could only watch you chew on those shells.”

“No, no, the man behind YOU! Looked like he had to excuse himself to somewhere more private any second. And then you top it all off when the owner came and was all like, ‘I need you two to move, you’re scarring the other guests,’ yadda yadda and you just went, ‘We shall, after I enjoyed this last oyster!’ and then you do that. Again. Right in front of him. Even louder. Thought his eyes might pop out of his sockets. And to THEN tell him, ‘They were not quite as remarkable as I was told.’ Brilliant, really. Brilliant, angel!”

“I do NOT sound like that! And he really could use something to dampen his spirits. They are all so very conceited here.”

The discussion had then moved on to topics Crowley did not remember now in his bed, the next morning. But as he packed up and got ready to leave, something loosened itself from the thick fog surrounding his memories. Huh.

He could have sworn the angel had hugged him goodbye with the words “’M really glad you’re a demon ‘n not an aardvark.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1  Nothing good, everything bad.[return to text]  
> 2 Crowley ignored how… warm he felt. Probably just the lingering sun. Probably.[3] [return to text]  
> 3 It is to be noted that the more often one uses probably in their theorizing, the less probable that theory becomes.[return to text]  
> 4 He knew, of course. He was the damn expert on this topic. Would have written a book on it, but the other demons weren’t too big on reading.[return to text]  
> Come visit my tumblr at [goodduckingomens](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/goodduckingomens). Comments and Kudos very much motivate me, so please leave some if you had fun. Keysmash comments appreaciated for the true Crowleys out there.


End file.
